Based on a real two days session, the series explores the fetish of being consensually spirited away, the erotic charge of being captive and objectified, used and abused.
You can listen to the podcast here or on my Youtube channel from 17:00 GMT today, Thursday 7th April 2022
March 2020, the world paused and we watched dismayed the pandemic rob people of their health and sometimes their lives. We have lived through these times, so I will not linger. Some of the lucky amongst us, who could, started breathing. We had time, space to imagine…. Unlike my colleagues Dominatrixes I realised that platforms like Only Fans wasn’t suited to my style of practicing BDSM. Like my colleagues and so many of us around the globe, I was facing an undetermined period of time without my devotees. I was in Switzerland caring for my elderly mother and I remained there until the end of July 2021. I contributed to Zürich Domina & owner of the state of the Art studio Der Femdom, Herrin Ariadne’s Podcast by creating a series of 7 “imaginary sessions” based on real ones I’ve conducted through my life as a Mistress.
The virus would not stop erotic rêveries, nor erase the lure of tantalising orgiastic visions.
The urge to submit to the implacable will of a cruel Mistress, the craving to be her abject creature, was becoming an inescapable obsession….
As studios, brothels, boudoirs and dungeons closed around the globe in an effort to limit the spread of the disease, I invited my devotees to dive deep in the recesses of their hungry minds and descend, blindfolded, the great staircase that lead to the Goddess.
I instructed them to Kneel at each of the seven gates of acceptance and accept the sentence…. The ordeal that ensued.
My voice became a red thread, a pulsating life-giving line to dark Eros.
For a short time, my deviant musings, the click of my heels on the parquet of my Bastille may have reminded you of the beauty of our uncompromising erotic penchants….. I offer them to you again, revised and edited.
Join me, in my cyber dungeon.
Submission in times of confinement
1# CAPTIVITY
Prelude in form of a car journey with your Mistress & jailor
There is a chill in the air as you wait for the car outside the old airport. It prickles the skin of your face, awakening your senses dulled by the routines of the mundane and a heavy dose of fantasy which has been clogging your veins: a stream of images which, for being exotic and exciting are nonetheless sticky and slightly cloying.
The inside of the car is a prelude to your initiation: the blindfold engulfs my smile and you are left with the scent of my perfume and my voice. You feel the vibrations of the road as I describe the blur of the suburbs leaving a trail of ashen greys and new green.
Silence… The Autobahn. Snippets of songs from time bygone, when West Berlin was a fortress embedded in the mysterious East.
The colours are vivid in your mind's eyes: you “see” my words, your only link to the tangible outside world.
I stop talking.
The sound of the car speeding on the wet tarmac, morphs into ropes saturated with water winding round the cockpit of the vehicle.
Leather hood & magnetic nipple clamps: Bondage & pain
Encased in a tight leather hood, the blood pumping at your temples becomes a rhythmic drone accompanying waves of images formed on the sea of your semi-conscious mind. Random scenes wiz by, seeking attention and dissolving, competing with the gnawing pain of the minute clamps pinching your nipples.
Visions rise and ebb with your respiration.
At first, the unformed ghostly, the Bacchanalia of mundane processions compounded by the bawdy cohorts follow your irregular breath. They become more distinct as you grow accustomed to the engulfing warmth of the leather hood: a second skin, more rigid, dominant, to which your face responds and yields, grateful of the embrace.
The road now seems to widen, promising a smoother ride allowing you to give in to the pain and to focus on a re-occurring, reassuring sequence loop:
On inhalation, the head of precious resin of my perfume, pricks your nostrils and invade your brain; a memory rises:
The crimson room, you lay prostrate on the barren floor under the commanding presence of your Mistress, but just as you feel my pointed heels dangerously planted on each side of your head, the image dissolves with your exhalation in a subtle cloud where lingers the shady notes of Frankincense and bay leaves burned on the altar of the Goddess.
A new breath brings on a faint arabesque of Ambergris notes, the softness of my gloved hand warming your expectant skin, the scent of resin pervading your brain as the image focuses and the taps become thuds….
Again the hallucination dissolves with exhalation, again and again, your breath brings back the striking images, sharpened by the barely tolerable bitting radiating from your nipples, tracing unknown paths to your groin and your loins, opening channels of synapses, filling with white hot sensuous electricity circling your balls and anus, biting your perineum and gripping the base of your cock before ascending the shaft and crowning the gland…
Again and again, they give shape to the longing of your soul to surrender to my will and to my rituals.
Arrival at the Dungeon: The descent into the labyrinth
Make it stand out
Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
From ash and green to green and liquid steel, the industrial zone is divided at right angles by arteries of asphalt punctuated by erected steel, morose tower blocks , austere estates.
The car finally turns into streets lined by enormous warehouses, workshops and follows a small lane, slowing down along a gravel path.
A flight of stairs, the first ones of a long series of blind steps and you are chained to the horizontal bar of a steel balcony.
Are you on a terrace, a deck?
Alone
The texture of the air is smoother, mellow, fluid. A cold breeze animates the air and trees surrounding the lake sing in long waves interrupted from time to time by the flight of aquatic birds.
The pink gold of the setting sun gilds the calm waters.
This is your last contact with the world.
The pain becomes excruciating.
You understand there is no turning back: You have entered through a crack between the worlds and must wander …
In the suffocating blackness of the hood, you sense the veiled figure who beckons you to your captivity, and you, instinctively, follow the path leading to the stone staircase and the first Gate bathed in amber glow.
Through corridors and rooms, guided by my voice, you enter the Underworld: the journey is slow as the volumes change around us: small and narrow, spacious, small and cushioned. A hazardous descent on a metallic staircase triggers a disquieting soundtrack: our steps reverberating through a vast, hard, very high and cold space.
You are made to kneel before a small door and I insert industrial plugs into your ears.
Now with only the sense of touch and scent, you follow me into the labyrinth.
Narrow, low…
You feel the walls closing around you as we enter the long tunnels leading to the matrix, the womb of the edifice in which you will be symbolically entombed for 2 days.
Where you will be tested to your limits, stripped of more layers you knew you had, and finally, renewed.
•••••
To be continued
Here is a link to the full audio on this site or directly on Youtube
And meet in two weeks for episode #2 of “Submission in Times of Confinement”.
If you have enjoyed this post and want to explore Kink and BDSM here is an interesting article published in Vice:
There are many good books on BDSM, kink, amongst my favourites are:
“The New Topping Book” and “The New bottoming Book” by Easton & Hardy
“Different Loving” by Gloria G. Brame, William D. Brame and Jon Jacobs